You're Mine or am I Yours?
by L's-Willing-Slave
Summary: Spoilers: STID "You will be equipped with behavior modification technology, & then sent back to remain under the captain's and my watch." Khan's forced into an inferior position & attempts to find loopholes in Vulcan technology. Kirk has to adjust to having the man who caused him so much pain beside him all the time & the overwhelming desire to abuse his control. Blood bond.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _Don't own Star Trek in any of its forms. Also posted this on A03 under ObsidianCrow, just so you know I'm not plagiarizing myself :P haha. Prob gonna update faster over there. Anyway, hope you enjoy!_

Chapter 1

"The techniques are still in the revisionary phase, but testing on New Vulcan has promised potential," said Spock, dark brown eyes locked onto Jim's. "This will be an excellent opportunity to test how far the technology can be used to rehabilitate people. If it fails to achieve the desired effect, we can put him to sleep like the rest of his crew."

Jim ran a hand through his hair, eyes narrowing in thought. "Khan's smart, Spock. He's manipulative. Whoever has control over him might just decide he's 'rehabilitated' when he's not."

"You misunderstand the program, Captain. It is used for high-profile criminals, and does not have an end date. He will spend the duration of his life under the program, perhaps with changes as newer technology comes out."

Kirk glanced at the monitor, revealing Khan fuming in his glass prison. Soul-seizing blue eyes were narrowed, the handsome face hiding an underlying maleficence. Kirk sighed. "He's brilliant... If he was working with us, we could accomplish anything." He redirected his gaze to his best friend's. "Promise me he won't be able to cause irreparable harm, or world domination, or wake his crew. _Promise _me this, Spock. I can't risk any more loved ones just for the sake of having a powerful weapon on our side."

Spock was silent for a long moment. Before speaking, he uncharacteristically placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. He had lost Kirk- he understood the pain and worry perfectly. "You and I are to have joint control over him. So long as this does not change, and the program remains in the hands of New Vulcan, he will only be able to cause harm if we are careless."

"Well..." Jim gazed at the monitor once more. "...alright. But if he hurts a single person, he's going straight into cryonic sleep."

Jim approached the unbreakable glass wall protecting the world from the monster that had ultimately taken his life. The breath rushed from him at the anguished, vengeful stare fixed on him, the man suddenly too close. Not even the cage was enough to leave Jim feeling safe from this man's hateful blue gaze.

"What is it you plan to do with me now, _Captain_?" he snarled, spitting the last word like a curse. He was on his feet in an instant, close enough to the glass to fog it with his labored breathing. He was radiating hate. "Now that you've captured me... killed my family..."

"...wait, what?" Kirk stared dumbly. "When did I... _Oh_. No one told you?" No change in expression. Khan daren't hope. He wouldn't let his emotions be played with in such a way. "Khan... they're not dead. Spock took their cryonic chambers out before sending those missiles over to your ship. While we're definitely not going to wake them up, they're not _dead_."

"Your attempt at manipulation is pathetic and will not work." The lines on Khan's face hardened, Kirk nearly tripping backwards in his instinctual need to flee. "I repeat, _what do you plan to do with me_?"

Jim quickly regained his footing. If this plan was to work, he couldn't let Khan control him. On the same hand, he wanted to ease the burning hatred in Khan's heart. Khan was already volatile- the loss of his only family would not help. Swiftly, Jim typed away at a monitor device, flipping it around to show Khan. For once, the superhuman was stunned, eyes widened. "This... this is a trick. I'll need to see it myself to believe it."

Jim couldn't help himself. It was beyond inappropriate, but he laughed all the same. "Let you near them? After all that's happened?" He shook his head. "No way. I may not be a genetically-engineered human, but I'm smart enough to know better than that. No, I've got a better idea."

"Oh?" Khan lifted a slender brow, devastatingly beautiful in his near-hopefulness.

Jim had the sudden urge to crumble such hope and watch the man fall apart... Instead, he said, "Vulcans don't lie. I'll have Spock talk to you. He can explain your situation to you, too."

Conversing with the man who had caused Kirk's death (although unintentionally bringing him back, as well) was not something Spock desired. As much as he liked to act otherwise, it had become glaringly obvious to anyone who had seen him after the destruction of his home planet that he did indeed have emotions. _Strong _emotions. However, he used meditation and the techniques taught to him as a child and adolescent to control them. Jim had a way of breaking Spock's life-learned self control in a matter of instants...

The insufferable Khan, while incapable of getting Spock to reveal his emotions, was greatly capable of evoking them.

"Is it true?" was the first thing out of Khan's mouth. This one thing was Khan's humanity- his attachment to his crew. "Are they alive?"

"In the technical sense," Spock answered. "Your crew is in a state of cryonic sleep, and will be for an indefinite period of time."

Some of the rage faded from the fiery, over-emotional depths. This man was strong... but he was a super _human_. As 'superior' as he might be, being a member of his species created a weakness in him. "...I heard it was your choice to not blow them up on my ship. If this is so, I express my gratitude. It is a kindness I would never extend to your people, and can't understand why a a member of a species known for logic would do so."

"Captain Kirk has a habit of rubbing off on people. Do you wish to be told of your fate?"

Khan tapped his nails on the barrier separating them, appearing to be in thought. "...yes, I suppose it would be most beneficial to be psychologically prepared. I presume it isn't cryonic sleep, or I'd already be out."

"That is correct," Spock confirmed. "You are to be part of a new program for behavioral modification, with the intention of becoming a useful member of the crew."

Khan's lips quirked. "I know you're inferior, but this is an unexpected level of idiocy."

"That is debatable," said Spock. "You will remain under the program until either your death, the invention of a better program, or until you provide us reason to give up on you and put you into cryonic sleep. Your progress will be monitored by myself and Captain Kirk. In time, you may be allowed on missions with us."

"And if I refuse?"

Spock gazed into the sharp blue depths, analyzing the man before him. "Perhaps a half-asleep stage, with constant experimentation. There are many companies that would jump upon having a human with your healing capabilities... We would take all necessary previsions to eliminate your chance of escape. The choice is yours."

Khan's hands were balled into fists. "It is unwise to even leave me alive." He abruptly turned around, a slight hesitance to his frame. "It is only the illusion of a choice. I have none..."

Spock remained silent, waiting for the past dictator to come to terms with his fate. Khan was, after all, correct. As an emotional and logical human being, he was only left with one option.

"I accept. When does this... _program_ begin? May I know the process?"

Spock replied, "Tomorrow morning, you will be sent to New Vulcan. Naturally, you will be tranquilized the entire time. Upon arrival, you will be equipped with the behavior modification technology. It will be thoroughly tested for bugs, and you will then be sent back to remain under the captain's and my watch."

"And if anything was to happen to the both of you?" asked Khan.

"You would be placed in indefinite Cryonic sleep," Spock answered.

Khan didn't fight as the barely-visible gas began to fill his cage, even as he felt it begin to take effect. However, in what felt like mere moments- as his long cryonic sleep had- he found himself awakening. His head was thick and foggy inside, making coherent thought a challenge. With a great effort, he peeled his lids open. The sudden piercing pain of light caused him to scrunch them shut once more. He raised a lead-filled arm, placing a hand over his face.

"Yeah, it'll probably take you a couple minutes to be functional again, even with your 'superiority'. They practically gave you elephant tranquilizers, to make sure you wouldn't wake up."

Even in his haze he recognized the voice as Kirk's.

It was a few minutes later that he could sit up. His vision swam as he forced his eyes to stay open. Trying to swallow the dryness in his throat away (a failure, as it was caused purely from dehydration), he became aware of the most peculiar feeling around his neck. A still-weak hand raised, pressing at cool metal. It encircled his neck, his fingers feeling no way to undo it.

"I see you've found one of your new accessories," came the young captain's pleased voice. "It's really quite advanced."

Khan was finally capable of taking in his surroundings. He was sitting up (from his own efforts) against a headboard, above the tucked-in bedsheets of a comfortable bed. The room appeared to be someone's private quarters. The captain's, presumably. "I'm sure they could have made the technology smaller and less visible if they so chose. My guess is that the clear visibility serves to label my situation."

Kirk shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much." Then, with a wide smirk, "A collar looks good on you, Khan."

Posture once again impeccable, voice mocking, Khan said, "You flatter me, captain," continuing with a flat, "How does this collar work?"

"Misbehave and find out," Kirk responded, eyes sparkling with glee. "I mean it- go ahead and misbehave. I'd love to try it out on you, you murdering son-of-a-bitch."

Khan was off the bed in an instant, staring eye-to-eye with the reckless human before him. The hitch in breath this got him caused him pause. Jim clearly wasn't afraid, nor was he upset. What had caused such a reaction? Surprise? No, that wouldn't explain the tint of red to pale cheeks. If his guess was correct, he could use this to his advantage. He lifted a hand, which immediately was caught by one of the captain's own.

"What are you doing?" Kirk demanded, voice a bit too breathless for their situation.

Khan smirked, staring straight into those dilated blue orbs. He could feel the racing pulse through where his fingers rested on Kirk's wrist. "If I'm a 'murdering-son-of-a-bitch', what does that make you?" he asked, voice a low purr.

Kirk frowned. "Huh?"

Leaning forward, so his lips were pressed to Jim's ear (who, to Khan's intrigue, allowed it, breathing only becoming further labored), he husked, "You're attracted to me."

Khan let himself be knocked to the ground, landing in a crouch. He was left with nothing but smug satisfaction at the action he had caused, allowing his feelings to show on his face. Kirk's hands were clenched at his side, white-knuckled, as he shook his head. "No. No. That's... that's just _sick_. I would never- _never_- ever, be attracted to a _thing _like _you_. You hear me Khan? You're _disgusting_."

Khan dusted himself off, getting to his feet with an easy grace. "Whatever helps you keep from loathing yourself, _Captain_. You can lie to yourself, but your reactions make the truth apparent."

Kirk's face was fixed into a deep scowl. Khan dodged the grabbing hands, gripping Kirk just right to flip him-

The ex-dictator's limbs spasmed, legs folding beneath him as his entire body weight hit the ground at once. He grunted at the sharp pain of his skull hitting the ground, the world twitching beneath him, the air burning his skin. He resisted the urge to speak, knowing he'd just end up biting off his own tongue. Through swimming vision- as his eyes were spasming as well- he recognized Kirk leaning over him.

"Interesting. I hear it has different punishments." The face left Khan's field of vision. He barely managed to piece together Kirk's next sentence. "I have a meeting to attend. You can stay here like this 'til I'm done."

Through the fog of wrecked senses, Khan could almost hear the sound of a door opening and closing. He gasped for breath as his senses continued to leave him, control crumbling to dust, nerves igniting in fire.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**_ Still don't own Star Trek in any way, shape, or form. Hope ya like this chappie :P _

Chapter 2

Kirk stood over Khan, watching as he trembled and twitched. All semblance of self and coherent thought was gone. He was nothing but a ball of spasming and twitching muscles, brain included. How long had he left him like this? Two, perhaps three hours? He knelt down, placing a hand on the metal band around Khan's neck. "I release you, Khan," he said, forcing his voice to be clear and strong.

Khan's twitching slowly died down. No more than twenty seconds had passed before the man took a deep gasping breath, attempting to push himself up. He had only gotten into a sitting position when he paused, overpowering blue eyes flooding with hate as they landed on Kirk. "Wath th-" Khan broke off, a low growl escaping at his incoherency.

Jim smirked, eyeing the man with intrigue. "Wow. They really did make a device that could punish _you_. I hadn't believed it. You recover _fast_." He pressed a glass of water into shaking hands. Khan's fingers gave out under the weight, and Jim managed to catch it, half of it spilling onto Khan's pants.

Perhaps this was a side effect of being drugged for who-knows-how-long and then being 'punished' for two hours? He pressed the glass to Khan's lips. A burning gaze fixed to his as Khan gulped down what he was given, Jim's clumsy attempts leaving droplets spilling past the ex-dictator's lips. "This should help you speak. Not that that's a desirable thing." He watched a drop trailing down Khan's chin... A chin that looked very good when gripped by his hand...

Kirk cleared his throat. "I need to talk to you about the rules here. We're giving you free roaming rights for now. Obviously certain rooms are going to be off limits, which you'll know because they require DNA scans, badges, or other such things to enter. You have a curfew of 1800 hours," he said, purposely leaving out, _If you're not back by that time, I'll activate a punishment on your collar. _"If you try to manipulate anyone, you'll be put on a tighter leash."

"Is it really a good idea to give him free reign like this?" asked Spock, looking at Kirk over the 3D chess board.

Kirk shrugged. "I figure he'll mess up eventually, and it'll give me an excuse to punish him. Besides, the more you give, the more you can take away."

Spock placed his next piece on the board. "It is optimal to not let your emotions get the best of you."

Kirk avoided his friend's eyes. "Easier said than done..." Redirecting the conversation, he said, "Anyway, we'll be visiting planet M-113 tomorrow. Just for routine medical checks and medical examinations of the humans situated there. Bones actually knows one of them. Nancy Crater, I think."

Spock frowned upon seeing Kirk's next move, muttering a low, "How illogical," before saying, "I assume you wish for me to keep an eye on Khan while you are down on the planet?"

Kirk gave a nod. "Yeah. He's got a tracker implanted in that thing on his neck, right? Just keep watch on a monitor and make sure he doesn't leave the ship. I don't wanna chase him down in the M-113 wasteland."

_Such an inferior species_. Khan watched the people chatting gleefully around him in the recreation room, unaware of the god in the room with them. _What good is a collared god? _He frowned, banishing that thought. He was better than them. This was a mere... setback. He was awake, and he would have another chance to free his crew.

"Hey, you're that ex-dictator guy, aren't you?" The boy asking him could be no more than 17, grinning with his apparent find. "And now you're the captain's pet, huh?"

Khan kept his face perfectly blank, hands twitching with the instinct to hurt the kid. He was built to fight- not sit and tolerate, unless for the sake of an end goal. Now he sat because worse than not being able to hurt this inferior child was being a writhing mess on the floor in front of this weak being. A hand reached out, hazelly brown eyes rapt with intrigue. Khan caught it before it could touch his collar, applying just enough pressure to threaten, but not to hurt. Voice dark, Khan said, "If you try that again, I will remove this appendage from-" Khan continued to mouth the words, but nothing came out.

The kid was snickering behind his priorly-threatened appendage. "Oh, yeah, I'm terrified."

"Joey, leave him alone," came a voice. Khan looked up at the person, grimacing at needing someone to come to his rescue. Short sandy-brown hair almost brushed the woman's shoulders, gray eyes not even bothering to glance at Khan.

"But, Elizabe-"

"_Cutler_," the woman snapped.

Joey huffed. "Fine. _Ms. Cutler_, do you even know what he did? What's it matter if I taunt him a bit?"

Khan watched the woman with intrigue, wondering if she could be of use to him. Had he found another pawn?

Elizabeth said, "I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it, but we should have some restraint. _He _may be a criminal, but we're supposed to be civilized."

Joey rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We're 'above that' and all..." Without a backwards glance, he left the room.

For the first time, Elizabeth turned her gaze to his, taking the seat before him. She tilted her head, thoughtfully.

For now, she had been willing to 'defend' him. With a bit of work, he might be able to get even more from her. First step, feign gratitude. He opened his mouth to speak. No sound came out. _Damn this collar! _He flinched at the feel of a hand on his, and realized he had been gritting his teeth in his anger.

She swiftly pulled her hand back, as if just realizing her action. "I'm Elizabeth Cutler, Exobiologist. I assume you're Khan?"

Jaw clenched, he gave a curt nod. Manipulation was difficult without words. In such a crucial moment, he was left to rely on one-sided conversation. Hopefully his superior thrall would be enough to draw her in, though his weak state probably dampened that.

"Are you really over 200 years old?"

Khan pondered that. Technically he was the same age as when he'd been shoved in the Cryonic tube, plus the year he had already been out of it. Still, it would probably increase any interest in him if he said yes. He gave a nod.

A beep stopped her before she could ask anything else, and she pulled her communicator from her pocket. "Yes? Yes, I'll be right there." She snapped it shut, getting to her feet. She paused at the door, turning to look at him once more. "The captain's probably in the Bridge. Or you could try Dr. McCoy, though if your collar did it I'm thinking only Captain Kirk can fix your voice."

Khan refused to go to Kirk for 'help'. It made no sense that McCoy would be able to help, given that it was purely technological and not medical. He did have one other option. He just didn't know where to find this person, and had no way of asking.

Good fortune must have been on his side, because as he turned a corner, he stopped just in time to avoid running into Spock. The Vulcan went to walk around him, Khan quickly keeping in front of the hybrid.

A brow lifted. "Can I help you, Khan?"

Biting back his humiliation, Khan nodded. Spock continued to stare, waiting for Khan to speak, no doubt. Growling- except no sound actually came out- Khan pointed at the collar.

"You will have to speak if you wish for me to understand the problem. I could not remove the collar even if I wanted to, if that is what you are asking."

Khan forced his expression neutral, even as he felt his frustration mounting. He made a faux writing motion with his hand. Spock handed over his PADD, opening it to a word document. Khan quickly typed out, _Can't speak. Fix it._

"I assume there is a purpose for you being like this. I will inform the captain of your condition. I suggest staying in his quarters until he returns to avoid misunderstandings." The supposedly-emotionless Vulcan was_amused_. While it didn't show on his face or in his voice, Khan could _feel _it.

Khan continued to block the Vulcan's path. He couldn't hurt him, but he could still do this much.

"I will call security if you don't move."

Khan stepped aside, seething after the Vulcan. This was his new existence? This pitiful life? He wanted to break something. Tear something apart. Inflict damage and _kill_.

At 2100, Kirk returned to his room. What he found took a moment to take in. The blankets were strewn across the room, feathers from the pillows everywhere. His clothes were out of their drawers, mixed on the ground. A lamp lay shattered at his bedside. There, on the floor, laying in the glass, was Khan. He was trembling as he had been the night before. How long had he been like this?

Kirk carefully avoided tripping on the mess, glass crunching beneath his boots as he kneeled down beside Khan. Sharp features were twisted in pain. Like this, the man was devastatingly handsome. Vulnerable, and weak to Kirk's any whim... he placed a hand on a silky soft cheek, stroking his thumb over red lips. The spasming of the face muscles brought, unbidden, thoughts of other muscles spasming- _around him_. He slipped a finger inside Khan's mouth, intrigued to feel the spasms continued even there. It was a full-body thing.

Kirk abruptly yanked his hand back, feeling sick. What was he _thinking_? This man had killed Pike- he shouldn't be attracted to him. Let alone considering... He took a few deep breaths to bring his mind to a more professional level. _I'm the captain of the U.S.S Enterprise. Khan is entrusted to me under a rehabilitation program. This is a responsibility. _Steadied, he placed a hand on Khan's collar. "I release you, Khan."

This time, Khan was up in ten seconds. Kirk decided to note this to Spock when he next saw him. "What triggered it this time?"

Khan opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. He placed a hand on the ground, blood trickling from it where shards of glass dug in. Using said hand as leverage, Khan was on his feet, towering over Jim. The captain quickly followed suit, using his best posture to match the ex-dictator's height.

Red... blood... He blinked, wondering when he had gripped Khan's bloody hand and pulled it up for examination. His eyes followed the rivulets of blood, and he was overcome with the desire to lick it. The glass shards began to come out on their own, leaving smooth flesh and a palm full of blood-coated glass shards. Spell broken, he dropped the hand. A perfectly-sculpted eyebrow raised in silent mocking. Even without words this man managed to unsettle Kirk.

"I'll..." Kirk cleared his throat. If he was going to speak to Khan, he couldn't stutter or show weakness. "I'll come back in half an hour. If the room is clean by the time I get back, I'll let you have your voice back."

For now, Kirk needed to have a visit with Bones.

"Jim," said McCoy, hoping his friend's visit to the Sick Bay was purely social. "There isn't a space tick aboard, is there?"

"What? No. Do those even exist?" Kirk took a seat on a bed, shoulders slightly hunched. His hands were on his knees, clenching and unclenching. "It might be nothing, but... you said there could be side effects."

McCoy eyed his friend. "Is this about Khan?" He watched as Jim uncharacteristically bit his lip, nodding. "Are you feeling the need to free him, and dominate the rest of us?"

Kirk actually cracked a smile at that, shaking his head. "No. I still hate him, Bones. It's just... he got some glass in his hand, and he was bleeding-" He broke off, looking up from his lap. McCoy gave his practiced 'you-can-talk-to-me' face, which had helped him solve many a case on board. Another success, as Kirk continued, "I couldn't stop looking at it. His blood. I wanted to... to _lick _it. To make him bleed more just so I could tasteit. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"I think I know," said McCoy. At the hopeful look, he said, "You've turned into a vampire."

Kirk rolled his eyes, even as the joke managed to lighten him up a bit. "Seriously, though. Do you have any ideas?"

"I'll run some tests to see if it's biological," said the doctor. "If not, this could be a case for a psychologist. It could be mental."

"I don't know which would be worse..."

Pros and cons. He was constantly making mental lists of them. Clean the room, get his voice back, and have a higher chance of manipulating others. Don't clean the room, mess it up even more, and watch what Kirk does.

_He'd be elated to keep me this way_, he thought, bitterly, searching through Kirk's closet, occasionally tossing something else onto the floor just for the hell of it. He paused, as the dried blood still on his hand caught his eye. Kirk's reaction had been... peculiar. Could this be an advantage? The inferior being had been absolutely entranced at the sight. While it was highly likely it was mere intrigue based on the fact Khan's blood had brought Jim back, it would be foolish to dismiss the possibility of it being more than that. Any advantage, however small, needed to be accounted for.

Khan froze as an idea overcame him. It was with the first feel of power in days that he swiftly made the bed, tucking in the edges (the pillows were too shredded to be salvaged, however). He then made his way into the bathroom, looking under the sink. Perfect.

It was pathetic that he was reduced to petty pranks. What would be more pathetic, however, would be sitting back and letting Kirk feel superior. Yes, he would unsettle Kirk to such a degree that he'd slip up. Or, at the very least, provide himself with some amusement amidst this torturous 'rehabilitation program.'


End file.
